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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28301967">I give you my heart</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CastielsCarma/pseuds/CastielsCarma'>CastielsCarma</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Christmas, Destiel Secret Santa Exchange 2020, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hand Jobs, M/M, Misunderstandings, Rudy Francisco poem, Sam Winchester is Scarred For Life, post 15x18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 14:28:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,942</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28301967</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CastielsCarma/pseuds/CastielsCarma</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Cas, all of Team Free Will can finally rest. Chuck is defeated and they are truly free.</p><p>Christmas is approaching and Dean goes all in. Among the baking and covering the Bunker in Christmas decorations, something happens. All Dean knows is that Cas is suddenly avoiding him. Will Dean figure out what has happened with Cas and remedy it or is their relationship over before it barely began?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>161</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Destiel Secret Santa Exchange 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I give you my heart</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfectlyelegantdelusion/gifts">perfectlyelegantdelusion</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi lovely readers! Merry Christmas and a Happy Holiday.</p><p>This year I participate in the Destiel Secret Santa exchange. @perfectlyelegantdelusion, this one is for you! </p><p>They had a number of things on their wishlist. I gave them mild fluff (hope it's not too much), Rudy poem inspo, misunderstandings, Saileen, celebrations, and hilarious situations with a sprinkle of tmi for Sam.</p><p>I hope you as well as my other readers enjoy this little Christmas ficlet! Be well and safe. I appreciate every one of you &lt;3</p><p>Now with artwork from @Emblue_Sparks</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <b>Of all the things I could have been, I'm so glad to be this</b>
</p><p>
  <b>- Rudy Francisco </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Why does this sound like a goodbye?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Because it is.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Each breath is pain. Dean inha<span>les fire and wishes that the darkness would claim him too. The world is incomprehensible and blurry. The only stark reminder of realness is what Dean lost. </span></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Dean wakes up suddenly, <span>his heart racing and panic coats his skin in a thin sheen of sweat. </span><span>His hand flies out blindly and finds warm skin.</span></p><p> </p><p>He blinks in the darkness of the room and wraps an arm around Cas' waist. The heat of Cas calms him down, and the very solid frame against him centers Dean into reality. Pulling Cas in, he whispers. “I love you.”</p><p> </p><p>Cas stirs from his sleep and turns slowly towards Dean. His words are softspoken. “I love you too.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean exhales and kisses Cas' collarbone. He lands another kiss on Cas' jaw. It's been a few weeks since Cas' death, a few weeks since Cas' return, a few weeks since </span>
  <span>
    <em>everything</em>
  </span>
  <span> changed. And for once in Dean's life that change had been for the better.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>Cas' voice is gravely from sleep, more so than usual. “A nightmare? It's been a while.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean gives Cas a quick peck on the mouth before settling down again. “Yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>Cas caresses Dean's arms, fingers trailing a nonsense pattern that still makes Dean's heart skip a beat.</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everything about Cas is like an old, worn blanket. The very presence of him soothes Dean, and the knowledge, the deep </span>
  <span>
    <em>truth </em>
  </span>
  <span>of Cas' love for Dean; it still has him reeling sometimes. Most of the time to be honest. An old, worn blanket, and Dean wouldn't want it any other way. He chuckles at the image that comes to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>“What's so funny?”</p><p> </p><p>Dean smiles. “I was picturing you like a blanket, you know one of the comfortable ones that's been around forever. It's worn and frayed but still so soft.”</p><p> </p><p>Cas huffs. “I'm new to all this, but I'm not sure being called worn and frayed is a compliment.”</p><p> </p><p>“How about too hot for your own good, that better?”</p><p> </p><p>Cas leans in and kisses him. “You didn't complain last night about me being too hot. I think me being hot definitely has its advantages.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean sputters. “That's not fair. You can't use your body like that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Like how?”</p><p> </p><p>“Just... you know, walking around being hot. People have their lives to live, Cas. They can't go around thinking about your hands all the time.”</p><p> </p><p><span>There's humor in Cas' voice. “Are you trying to tell me that the very existence of me </span><span><em>walking around </em></span><span>has you</span> <span>hot and bothered?”</span></p><p> </p><p>“I said people...” Dean reaches over and turns on the bedside lamp. The soft glow paints shadows over Cas' skin, like muted stars in the night sky. Dean's heart leaps.“Well, have you seen yourself, Cas? I bet angel radio went dead silent when you showed up.”</p><p> </p><p>“My true vessel was intimidating but never enough to mute angel radio.” Cas' eyes shine when he looks straight at Dean. “It went dead silent once though. When I pulled a soul from Hell and cried out 'Dean Winchester is saved'.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean punches Cas on the shoulder. “You always were a dramatic son-of-a-bitch.”</p><p> </p><p>Cas frowns and looks so offended that Dean bursts out laughing. “I was not. I had to tell my brothers and sisters that the mission was completed.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, fine. But what about the light show in the barn?”</p><p> </p><p>Cas huffs. “I wanted to intimidate you.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean grabs Cas' chin and kisses him. “Nah, you didn't. Drama-king.”</p><p> </p><p>Cas kisses him back. “If you don't get me coffee, I'll give you drama.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The smell of bacon and eggs greets Dean when he enters the kitchen. Sam – wearing a plain apron – is fiddling with the spatula.</p><p> </p><p>“What you doin'?” Dean asks as he pours coffee in the filter. When he thinks it's enough, he adds some more and presses it down with a spoon. Coffee doesn't taste like molecules to Cas any longer and he's developed a taste for the ridiculously strong kind.</p><p> </p><p>Sam looks up. “Um, making breakfast?”</p><p> </p><p>“I know you're making breakfast, I mean why?”</p><p> </p><p>“Because I'm hungry?”</p><p> </p><p>Dean closes the lid on the jar and turns on the coffee maker. One of these days, he'll get a stovetop coffeemaker for Cas. He'll just smell a whiff of the coffee and be up for days.</p><p> </p><p>“Nope, are you not supposed to commune with the roads? Feel the wind in your majestic hair?”</p><p> </p><p>“It's too early for this, Dean. Talk like a normal person.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean grabs a fork and steals a piece of egg before Sam notices.</p><p> </p><p>“Mm, yum. I mean” – Dean says between bites – “are you not supposed to be out running?”</p><p> </p><p>Sam clears his throat. “Well, Eileen came over and – “</p><p> </p><p>Dean raises an eyebrow. “Uh-huh.”</p><p> </p><p>Sam turns and puts bread in the toaster. “It's not like that. We were watching movies and it got late and we... fell asleep.”</p><p> </p><p>“Uh-huh... Sure. 'Sleep'.”</p><p> </p><p>“It was just sleeping,” Eileen laughs. She stands in the doorway and looks at Sam like he's hung the moon. Dean would never be caught staring at Cas like that.</p><p> </p><p>“Hurry up, I'm starving,” Eileen says as she signs.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, hurry up, Sammy. And toss in a few more eggs. Scramble them, babies. It's gonna be a busy day.”</p><p> </p><p>They sit down just as Cas and Jack appear, both of them wearing robes.</p><p> </p><p>“Right on time, Cas. Coffee is done and eggs are scrambled. Jack, eggs or cereal?”</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jack smiles. It's odd to see him as a normal kid – well, he's still a Nephilim – but now he can just </span>
  <span>
    <em>be</em>
  </span>
  <span>. No more Apocalypses or world-ending crap that they have to fix. No more sacrifices and death. Chuck is gone and Jack deserves all the cereal and fucking nougat in the world. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>“Cereal.” Jack takes a spoon but Dean has his eyes on Cas.</p><p> </p><p>Cas could be wearing tarp and he'd be breathtaking.</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He moves with grace and with a surety to every gesture. His world is made right and Dean swallows when he remembers one of the things Cas whispered to him during those late nights and early mornings when they were busy getting to know each other again. As friends. As lovers. </span>
  <span>
    <em>You're my world, Dean. And as I loved you, I loved the world through you. </em>
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>” – <span>Dean. Dean?”</span></p><p> </p><p>“What?” Dean looks at Sam with a raised eyebrow.</p><p> </p><p>“If you're done looking at Cas like he made the stars just for you – “</p><p> </p><p>“I was not – “ He glances at Cas but the bastard only looks down in his coffee mug with a slight smirk. “I was just mentally going through the checklist.”</p><p> </p><p>“What checklist? Eileen asks.</p><p> </p><p>Finally, Sam plates for the eggs. Loading up a helping of the scrambled eggs, Dean squirts some Tabasco on them and digs in. “What do you mean 'what list'? The Christmas list of course.”</p><p> </p><p>Jack pours milk in his cereals. “What's that?”</p><p> </p><p>Dean shakes his head. “You uncultured lot. The <em>list</em> so shit doesn't get forgotten while we're clinking our glasses full of eggnog. Fuck, need to add eggnog to the list. And whiskey.”</p><p> </p><p>Cas narrows his eyes. “I wasn't aware whiskey was considered a Christmas drink.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean grins. “Oh, it is. That burn when it goes down...”</p><p> </p><p>Cas nods. “You do like it when it burns.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean winks at Cas. “Yeah, I do.”</p><p> </p><p>Sam drops his fork with a loud clatter. “Guys! I'm eating breakfast.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean shrugs and grabs a toast. “We're just making convo.”</p><p> </p><p>Eileen pats Sam's arm. “He just needs some carbs and he'll calm down. Right, Sam?” She leans over and kisses him lightly on the cheek.</p><p> </p><p>Sam's frown turns into a smile. “Right.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean hasn't downed his coffee yet but he has to admit that Sam and Eileen do look good together. They look happy, and that's all he's ever wanted for his baby brother. “Sammy, I'll need your help later.”</p><p> </p><p>“With what? If you need me to assemble more IKEA-furniture, I have to politely decline.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean shakes his head. “What – no?”</p><p> </p><p>Cas interjects. “He does have a habit of not following instructions.”</p><p> </p><p>“I do not.”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you want me to bring up that time when I clearly stated that if you didn't follow instructions you'd get punished and what did you do? You went right ahead and – “</p><p> </p><p>Dean shakes his head. “Alright, alright, Cas. We get the picture.”</p><p> </p><p>Sam sighs and Dean thinks he looks miserable. “Unfortunately, we do get the picture,” he grumbles.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, are you ready?” Dean is trying to not sound too excited but fuck it, this is the first real Christmas they're celebrating in <em>years. </em>No monsters to kill, no Apocalypses, no looming threats. Just Team Free Will together and everything that Christmas entails.</p><p> </p><p>“Ready for what?” Jack asks.</p><p> </p><p>“Perfect question!” Dean points a finger at Jack. “Baking!”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, are we gonna make nougat?”</p><p> </p><p>Dean walks over and pats Jack on the shoulder. “Did you hear that, the kid wants nougat? Who are we to deny him?”</p><p> </p><p>Sam frowns. “Dean, it's not even nine. Don't you think it's a bit too early to bake?”</p><p> </p><p>“No! We only have – how many days, Cas?”</p><p> </p><p>Cas sighs. “Too many.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean ambles over to Cas and plays with his robe. “Come on, Cas. It's your first Christmas where you can actually <em>taste </em>stuff. You'll need those days. So how many?”</p><p> </p><p>“Three days, Dean.”</p><p> </p><p>“Three days! Let's get going.”</p><p> </p><p>“How far are you going to take this?” Sam asks as he spreads some butter on a toast.</p><p> </p><p>“I want the Scrooge at the beginning of the movie to look at the Bunker in <em>disgust</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Eileen signs. “Do you even have... Christmas decorations?”</p><p> </p><p>Cas looks at Dean with a raised eyebrow.</p><p> </p><p>Dean tries not to be offended. “'Do you even have'... of course we have, Eileen! Uh – Cas?”</p><p> </p><p>Cas shakes his head. “I think that's another one for your list.”</p><p> </p><p>“What about the stuff that Mrs. Butters used – “</p><p> </p><p>Sam shrugs. “I think those ornaments vanished with Mrs. Butters.”</p><p> </p><p>“That's fine. Just tell me some of your favorite things, Eileen and we'll get them for you.” Dean gets up from his chair suddenly. “Alright, breakfast things away, let's get baking.”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>Dean glares at the empty counter. “Where's my dough?”</p><p> </p><p>Cas walks up behind him and kisses his cheek. Dean will never tire of these simple affections. For too long he's pined for Cas and to finally be able to live it, yeah, he's fucking greedy. Dean turns and kisses Cas, catching his lips. It's a soft, slow kiss. Cas pulls him closer and a rush of excitement washes over him. “Maybe we should skip the baking and do some love-making?”</p><p> </p><p>Cas breaks off the kiss and chuckles against Dean's skin. “You're rhyming now, are you?”</p><p> </p><p>Dean licks his lips. “You bring out the holiday spirit in me.”</p><p> </p><p>“I can bring something <em>inside</em> you – “</p><p> </p><p>Sam clears his throat. “I'm truly happy for you guys, I am but that is not a picture I want in my mind. I don't wanna any of those pictures in my mind.”</p><p> </p><p>“Cas is just talking about bringing me some Christmas cookies, right Cas?”</p><p> </p><p>Cas squints. “Right.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean leans in close to Cas. “I wouldn't mind some Christmas coc – “</p><p> </p><p>“And that's my cue for leaving. Good luck with whatever you're baking. I and Eileen are gonna go and buy a tree.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean waves. “You kids have fun. A big tree, Sammy! We need room for all the decorations!” Dean grins and kisses Cas. “Finally, he leaves. I gotta say, this shirt suits you better than that robe.”</p><p> </p><p>A smile pulls at Cas' lips. “Winchester plaid.”</p><p> </p><p>“One of mine, I knew that.”</p><p> </p><p>Cas' smile falters. “Yes... I hope that was alright, Dean, I'm sorry if I – “</p><p> </p><p>“Cas, Cas. It's fine. It's more than fine. Do you have any idea of how long I've wanted to see you in one of my shirts? Too damn long. To be honest, I can't wait to tear it off of you but that can wait for now.”</p><p> </p><p>“Baking?”</p><p> </p><p>“Baking.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean grabs the bowl and scoops out the dough. The saffron makes it shine like the sun. It's still sticky but Dean will work that out. He cuts the dough in half and gives one part to Cas. “Give it another toss of flour and then get to work.”</p><p> </p><p>“And for how long are we gonna do this?”</p><p> </p><p>Dean shrugs. “I don't know. I just know when it feels right. We stop then.” He presses the heel of his hand into the dough and starts working it. After a few minutes, he gets lost in the process. It's work that gives instant results, and it's work with his hands, something he likes.</p><p> </p><p>“You think I could've been a baker in another lifetime?”</p><p> </p><p>Cas looks over at Dean's dough. “I do. You do like working with your hands, and there's an element of nurturing in baking. Feeding people, making them happy.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don't know about making people happy.” Dean adds a pinch of flour to his dough. “Most people haven't had happy encounters with me.”</p><p> </p><p>Cas pinches his arm.</p><p> </p><p>“Ouch, what the fuck was that for?”</p><p> </p><p>Cas frowns which creates those wrinkles between his brows that Dean loves, even though he knows it means Cas is gonna scold him. “You have fought your whole life for people, Dean. You've bled for them, killed for them. Have they not been happy when you saved their lives, when you believed in them, when you showed them another way?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don't know. Most people also saw me decapitate vamps, salt and burn ghosts and rip their attacker's hearts out.”</p><p> </p><p>“You made them happy.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean tries not to roll his eyes. “I guess.”</p><p> </p><p>“You are love, Dean.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean smiles and shakes his head. “That is fucking cheating.”</p><p> </p><p>Cas grins. “Doesn't mean it isn't true, Dean. You know I meant every single word.”</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly Dean's throat is tight with unnamed emotion. He kneads his dough harder than necessary. “I know, Cas. I know you did. It's just hard to silence that voice in my head. It's still there, weak as fuck but you know... sometimes.“</p><p> </p><p>Cas leans in close to Dean. “It will take time. But you saved the world, and you saved me. Yes, your hands are capable of destruction. But they're built for <em>creation. </em>You created a family on your own, with the people you chose, you turned this Bunker into a home, you brought up Jack to be a good kid – “</p><p> </p><p>“We brought up Jack to be a good kid.”</p><p> </p><p>Cas massages the dough. “Would it kill you to take a compliment?”</p><p> </p><p>Dean shrugs. “No, I guess you're right, Cas. I am pretty badass.”</p><p> </p><p>Cas smiles. “That you are. I love you.”</p><p> </p><p>The dough under Cas' hands resembles dough spaghetti more than a nice, round shape. “You're not supposed to <em>massage</em> the dough. Use your hands more than your fingers. Like that, good. And I love you too, Cas.” He grins. “More importantly, I knead you.”</p><p> </p><p>Cas stills. “Did you just...”<br/>
<br/>
Dean can't help it, he throws his head back and laughs. “It was good dough, wasn't it?”</p><p> </p><p>Cas tosses flour at Dean. “I think my ears are bleeding.”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Aren't you glad I convinced you to stop playing videogames?” Dean pushes Cas down on the bed and sighs softly as he straddles him. “We need a bigger bed.”</p><p> </p><p>“Very glad. I don't know about the bed though, I think it's optimal for the size of the room. Getting a bigger bed might make the room look too small.”</p><p> </p><p>“Mm, whatever you say.” Splaying his hand on Cas' chest, Dean kisses him. It's a slow, teasing kiss, one that involves a lot of tongue and when Dean finally eases up, Cas' cheeks are flushed and he's breathing heavily. “I love you like this, all hot and bothered. “</p><p> </p><p>“I'll agree with the first part, although I do think hot would be more apt on someone younger.”</p><p> </p><p>“Cas, trust me, you're hot.”</p><p> </p><p>Cas quirks an eyebrow. “Is that why you're painstakingly slow with these buttons? Afraid to get burned?”</p><p> </p><p>Dean smiles and kisses Cas' neck, as he continues to unbutton the shirt. “Nah, but it is <em>my </em>shirt. There will be no flying buttons.”</p><p> </p><p>A moan escapes Cas as Dean sucks on his pulse point. He grabs Dean by the hips and pulls him against him.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck, Cas, that's it.” Finally done with the shirt, Dean pulls it off of Cas. “I prefer you this way. No fabric to hide with.”</p><p> </p><p>“Allow me to return the favor.” Cas pulls off Dean's T-shirt and his hands are instantly on Dean.</p><p> </p><p>They're fire on his skin and Cas expertly traces a path from his chest, down over his soft stomach and when he finally reaches the belt, pulling teasingly, Dean is a mess.</p><p> </p><p>He grinds against Cas' groin but Cas has other plans. He grabs Dean by the arms and the world spins until Dean is on his back. “Much better.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, you wanna be on top?”</p><p> </p><p>Cas shrugs. “Like you would oppose that?”</p><p> </p><p>Dean huffs but it comes out less indignant and more like a soft whisper. “I don't know what you're talking about Cas...”</p><p> </p><p>Cas smiles and Dean thinks it's beautiful.</p><p> </p><p>Cas has smiled more these past few weeks than Dean can remember he's done in a decade and if Dean has anything to say about it, he'll create a life where Cas has reason to smile every damn day.</p><p> </p><p>“So you are saying that you don't want this?” Cas' mouth finds his nipple and he sucks hard.</p><p> </p><p>A spike of pleasure shoots through Dean. He strokes Cas' back, needing to ground himself which seems futile since Cas is the reason he's on cloud nine.</p><p> </p><p>“Nope, I'm all on board with this,” Dean chuckles, “everything that has to do with you getting inside me, I'm down for.”</p><p> </p><p>Cas pulls on Dean's waistband and Dean is lost as Cas cups his hand around his hard cock.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, Cas, fuck. Just like that.” He rakes his nails across Cas' back, urging him to keep going.</p><p> </p><p>“Eager are you?”</p><p> </p><p>Dean nods. “Mm, have you seen yourself? Hell yeah, I'm eager.” Dean pauses. “You're beautiful, Cas.”</p><p> </p><p>Cas' answer is to squeeze his hard cock. “I like it when you talk sweetly to me.”</p><p> </p><p>Sweet. It hits Dean all of a sudden. “Shit, Cas, the buns! The dough!” Dean pushes up but Cas doesn't move. He's still straddling him and Dean likes it, likes the notion that Cas won't let go of him.</p><p> </p><p>“Can't it wait?”</p><p> </p><p>Dean wants to say yes, but his mind has decided to substitute images of Cas fucking him into oblivion with the kitchen being fucked over by dough. “I think it's waited long enough.”</p><p> </p><p>Cas looks earnestly at Dean and Dean will never get over the color of Cas' eyes. They've still retained the same intensity, even after the last drop of grace left Cas' body. They seem old, ancient yet there's a new, playful glimmer there – Dean isn't sure if that's Cas being human or being up to no good.</p><p> </p><p>“And here I was hoping that you and I would be making bread...” Cas says it with a straight face, the bastard.</p><p> </p><p>“Christ Cas, where did you – “</p><p> </p><p>Cas lets go of Dean's dick with a heavy sigh. “Please, don't go baking my heart, Dean.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean laughs out loud as he gets up. “Fuck you, that is so bad.”</p><p> </p><p>There's a huge grin on Cas' face. “I learned from the best.”</p><p> </p><p>“That you did.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Cas stops at the kitchen entrance so suddenly that Dean slams into him.</p><p> </p><p>“Is it that bad?” Dean peers around Cas' shoulder. “Son-of-a-bitch. It's... everywhere.”</p><p> </p><p>Walking over to the sink, Cas washes his hands thoroughly. “So we just shape it into buns now and then in the oven it goes?”</p><p> </p><p>Dean sighs. “Man, look at all those lost saffron buns. Yeah, no... We need to scrape off the dough that's – ah man, it's even on the floor. What kind of special saffron did you buy?”</p><p> </p><p>Cas puffs out air. “You think this is my fault? I'm not the one who interrupted the video games for <em>other</em> games.”</p><p> </p><p>Wrapping Cas in a hug from behind, Dean kisses him. “Are you complaining about that interruption?”</p><p> </p><p>“No. Time loses its meaning when I'm with you, so I gather something similar happened to you.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean grins. “Yeah, something like that. Alright, let's get to work.”</p><p> </p><p>They start by salvaging the dough on the counter. Dean shapes it into a semblance of a round mound and then lets it rest. Still, the excess dough clings to his fingers and arms. Dean pulls the dough off one hand, only for it to stick on the other hand. “Cas, a little help here.”</p><p> </p><p>Cas ambles over to Dean. “Allow me.” He grabs a knob of dough and plasters it on Dean's arm. “No, Cas, not the arm!”</p><p> </p><p>“I knew I'd get a rise out of you.” Cas smiles like the joke is hilarious.</p><p> </p><p>“Cas, we need to work on your joking abilities.”</p><p> </p><p>“We do? I thought I learned from the best. Was that a lie?”</p><p> </p><p>The bastard splays his fingers on Dean's shirt and more dough sticks. “Before you were beautiful.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don't feel beautiful,” Dean grumbles.</p><p> </p><p>Lines appear at the corner of Cas' eyes when he smiles. “Now I think you're adoughrable.</p><p> </p><p>Dean groans and regrets the day he gave Cas <em>The excessively big book of puns</em>.</p><p> </p><p>The floor is harder to clean. They scrape off the excess dough and throw it in the trash.</p><p> </p><p>When Sam and Eileen enter, humming on <em>Jingle Bell Rock, </em>Dean and Cas are still on their knees, scratching away at the now hardened dough.</p><p> </p><p>“ – and after we make the shapes we need to let them rest for another, I'd say forty-five minutes. <em>Then </em>we do the egg-wash and in the oven, they go.”</p><p> </p><p>“What kind of shapes?” Cas wonders.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, any shape that – “</p><p> </p><p>Their conversation is interrupted by Sam. “Dean... Cas, what's going on?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, nothing, Sammy. Just baking.” Dean gets up from the floor and pulls Cas up with him. “We're almost finished.”</p><p> </p><p>“You had an explosion,” Eileen signs but she's smiling.</p><p> </p><p>Dean makes a face. “Well, you could say that, but it wasn't the explosion I was begging for earlier.”</p><p> </p><p>Cas narrows his eyes but it's Sam that voices his feelings. “<em>Dean. </em>It's not even lunchtime. Could you not – Uh, I'm not even going there.”</p><p> </p><p>“Did you get the tree?” Cas' question breaks the awkward tension.</p><p> </p><p>Eileen signs. “Yes, it's in the war room.”</p><p> </p><p>“Great!” Dean hugs Eileen. Letting go, he flashes her a smile as he pats her arm. “I hope you don't mind me borrowing Sam for awhile?”</p><p> </p><p>“Not at all. As long as he doesn't do anything stupid.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean laughs. “It's Sam, you can never count on that.” He kisses Eileen softly on the cheek. “He's lucky to have you.”</p><p> </p><p>Eileen fires off a smile at Dean and signs. “I know.”</p><p> </p><p>Cas eyes the kitchen counter. “I can come and – “</p><p> </p><p>“It's OK, Cas. You stay and do the buns. I'll be back soon.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don't know anything about baking.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean points at Eileen. “She'll help you. Oh and Jack! He wants nougats.”</p><p> </p><p>“But – “</p><p> </p><p>Dean is already out in the hall. “I'll buy you coffee. Love you.” He can hear Cas mutter something and decides that it is Cas saying 'I love you too.'”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“This!”</p><p> </p><p>Sam quirks an eyebrow at Dean. “Uh, alright. So the wreath that's made up of golden glass balls. Sure. We can hang it on a door... in the archive?”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, and the rest we can space out all over. The kitchen, the library, Jack's room, your room, the infirmary.”</p><p> </p><p>Sam raises a hand and his mouth hangs open as if he has difficulty processing what Dean is saying. “The <em>rest</em>?”</p><p> </p><p>Dean rolls his eyes. “You know, for being smart you have a surprisingly hard time keeping up with the intricacies of shopping, Sam. Yeah, the rest.” Dean waves his hand at the ornaments.</p><p> </p><p>“Let me get this straight, you want to buy... the rest? Like <em>all </em>of the ornaments?”</p><p> </p><p>Sam looks at the shelves. They're loaded with garlands – some with fake berries in them, some glittery, and some with tiny lights flashing in all the colors of the rainbow. There are fake poinsettias and real poinsettias, chubby angel ornaments, Christmas wreaths, and a multitude of ornament balls for the tree.</p><p> </p><p>Dean scoffs. “Not all of them, of course. I have some taste, Sam. I'm not buying <em>that</em> one.” Dean points at a small Christmas ornament hidden in the back.</p><p> </p><p>Sam picks it up and shakes his head. “It's a tiny reindeer with a Christmas hat fucking another reindeer.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean nods. “Yeah, we're not buying <em>that</em>. But the rest...” Dean swipes with his arm at the shelf. “Baby has room. It's only Christmas once a year. Go big or go home, Sammy.” Dean pats Sam on the back.</p><p> </p><p>“I'd say we go home,” Sam mutters.</p><p> </p><p>“I heard that.”</p><p> </p><p>Sam picks up an ornament the size of his hand. It's a sparkly plastic reindeer with white lights and glitter covering it. “Even this one?”</p><p> </p><p>Dean grabs it from Sam before he can take it back. “Hell yeah, this will be perfect in the kitchen!”</p><p> </p><p>“The – the kitchen?!”</p><p> </p><p>“It's alright, Sammy. I can see they have a matching one over there. We'll put the other one in your room. Oh, look over there. Fuck yeah. Christmas stockings!”</p><p> </p><p>Sam sighs but follows Dean along as he almost runs through the aisle.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Back in the car, Sam grumbles as he moves a bag away from the floor. “My legs go here, not – “ Sam looks inside the bag, “ – tinsels and mistletoe's.”</p><p> </p><p>“Feet toes, mistletoes, what's the difference?”</p><p> </p><p>“A lot, I hope.”</p><p> </p><p>“Come on, Sammy, this is the first Christmas you know... the first Christmas without us worrying about shit hitting the fan, the first Christmas I have with Cas as my lover”, Dean winks at Sam, “your first with Eileen.” His voice softens. “I just want it to be nice you know.”</p><p> </p><p>Sam nods. “It'll be nice, Dean. We're finally free.” He laughs. “And if you want an ugly-ass plastic reindeer, who am I to stop you?”</p><p> </p><p>Dean laughs. “Damn right. Let's go.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>After some time, Sam reacts. “Uh, Dean?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, what's up?” Dean lowers the radio.</p><p> </p><p>“This is not the way to the Bunker...”</p><p> </p><p>Dean swallows his smile. He wants to fucking dance but he settles for a neutral expression. His hand tightens on the steering wheel. “Nope, it isn't. We're just taking a little short cut, a detour. It'll be fine. Gonna show you something.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Dean looks out over the lake. It's not big but it doesn't need to be. For Dean, it's enough that it's there. The trees have lost their leaves and the ground is covered in white snow. He can hear the creaking as Sam moves closer to him.</p><p> </p><p>“It's nice. What lake is this?”</p><p> </p><p>“No idea, it's probably too small to have a name. But I bet there's fish to catch.” Dean smiles. “And I have all the time in the world to fish now.”</p><p> </p><p>“It feels odd that we can finally rest, odd but good.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean clicks with his tongue. “It feels awesome, Sammy. Toes in the sand, snow on my shoulder, wind in my hair. I don't really care, as long as I have that with Cas. As long as I have a life. With my family and friends.” He looks back at his brother. “Haven't we earned that?”</p><p> </p><p>Sam nods. “Yeah, we have.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Back in the Bunker, Dean unloads all the things they've bought on the kitchen counter. “You remember what I told you, Sammy?”</p><p> </p><p>Sam sighs heavily. “Yes, I will not return any Christmas decorations. I promise.”</p><p> </p><p>“On...”</p><p> </p><p>Sam puts down a bag with more force than necessary. “Really, Dean? Just a promise isn't enough?”</p><p> </p><p>Dean lowers his voice. “No. Show your dedication, man.”</p><p> </p><p>“This is ridiculous.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean stares at Sam until he gets the message.</p><p> </p><p>“Fine. I promise I won't return any decorations. I swear it. On my hair.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean grins. “There ya go, Sammy. Not so hard was it. I don't get the fuss.” Grabbing the reindeer, Dean props it on the counter. He connects the plug into a socket and the reindeer comes to life in a dazzling sparkle of white. “Awesome! Man, this is Santa's tenth reindeer, Flasher!”</p><p> </p><p>Sam opens his mouth but closes it again, shaking his head. “You can't name the reindeer Flasher, Dean.“</p><p> </p><p>“Why not? It rhymes with Dasher.”</p><p> </p><p>Sam starts unpacking the second bag. “If we're going by that premise, I think the name Stupid also works. Rhymes with Cupid.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean grabs the second silver reindeer. “Don't you listen to him, Necromancer. He'll treat you good.” He looks up at Sam who does Bitch-Face number 13. “What? We agreed on Flasher staying in the Bunker and Necromancer will prance along home with you.”</p><p> </p><p>“It's tacky.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean exhales in shock and covers Necromancer's ears. “Not in front of him, Sammy!”</p><p> </p><p>Sam rolls his eyes. “Is Christmas over yet?”</p><p> </p><p>Dean laughs. “I don't fall for that. I <em>know </em>you're excited about Christmas. Finally fucking free. Chuck is out of the picture and we can do whatever the hell we want. I think that's cause for celebration, Christmas or not.”</p><p> </p><p><span>Dean walks over to the dead guy freezer and grabs two </span>Margiekugel's. With a practiced motion, he removes the screw caps and hands one beer to Sam. They clink their bottles together and Dean takes a long swipe of his beer. “Man, that tastes good.”</p><p> </p><p>Sam clears his throat. “So, you think Cas will do it?”</p><p> </p><p>Dean takes another swipe of beer, allowing himself some more time before answering. “Yeah, why wouldn't he?” Dean nods to himself. “He'll move out.” He has to. “Hey, careful with the mistletoes. Gimme those.”</p><p> </p><p>Sam hands them over to Dean. “Have fun.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean grabs some twined rope too and walks out from the kitchen where he promptly bumps into Cas. “There you are! How was baking?”</p><p> </p><p>Cas nods. “Uh, it was good. Jack helped me with the shapes. I think the second batch will be done any minute.”</p><p> </p><p>“Great. Three more to go. I'ma just go place these somewhere.” Dean winks.</p><p> </p><p>Cas' eyes flit over the things Dean is holding. “Mistletoe.” He pauses shortly before continuing. “Did you know that most mistletoes are parasitic in nature?”</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, no?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes. They grow on a wide range of host trees, reducing the tree's growth and causing stunting. In many cases, the outer branches of the tree get infected and dies. Other species take over host branches, sometimes killing the entirety of the crown and replacing it with their own growth.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wow, did not know that.”</p><p> </p><p>“It's strange that it's a Christmas decoration piece.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean narrows his eyes in suspicion. Cas sounds angry.</p><p> </p><p>Cas looks at Dean and a shiver goes through him. What the hell is going on? “Uh, that might be strange. But stranger things have happened to us. We eat strange for breakfast, right Cas?” Dean chuckles.</p><p> </p><p>It's like Dean is talking another language because Cas is not reacting. “I need to continue baking.” The anger has been replaced with impassiveness. Cas walks past Dean into the kitchen.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, will you help us decorate the – “</p><p> </p><p>Dean turns but Cas is already gone. What the hell was that all about?</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The last mistletoe goes over the entrance to the Bunker. It's a measly, thin excuse of a mistletoe but it still counts. Dean tightens the red ribbon around the mistletoe and admires his work. Perfect.</p><p> </p><p>The door opens and Eileen walks through.</p><p> </p><p>Dean smiles. “Ah, Eileen. Perfect. You'll be the first one.” He puts a finger over his mouth. “Shh, don't tell Sam and Cas. We don't want them to be jealous.”</p><p> </p><p>Eileen scrunches her eyebrows in confusion. “What?”</p><p> </p><p>Leaning in close, Dean gives her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Merry Christmas, Eileen.”</p><p> </p><p>Eileen's mouth tilts up into a smile. “Merry Christmas, Dean. But you know, you don't need a mistletoe as an excuse.”</p><p> </p><p>“You're a menace, Eileen.”</p><p> </p><p>Eileen laughs. “I can say that about you,” she signs.</p><p> </p><p>“Mm, I'm not one to hide it. Look, I just wanna say this out of earshot from my baby brother. Don't want Sam to get his head even more in the clouds than it already is.” A sudden wave of gratitude hits him and it settles in his chest. “I – uh...”</p><p> </p><p>Eileen waits patiently.</p><p> </p><p>“Just wanted to say thank you,” Dean signs.</p><p> </p><p>“For what?”</p><p> </p><p>Dean exhales softly. “For taking care of my brother. For making him <em>happy. </em>It's not something any hunter really counts on having, you know. Happiness, family, someone to love, the whole shebang. But I know he's better with you in his life.”</p><p> </p><p>Eileen wraps him up in a hug. “I'm lucky too. I have a second chance because of him, because of you guys. It does something with you, being around the person you love.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean nods. “Yeah...”</p><p> </p><p>Eileen brushes away something from his shoulder. “ Come here.” She embraces him. “Love you, Dean.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean kisses her hair. “Love you too, Eileen.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The Bunker has slowly transformed from just the Bunker to a place where Santa Clause would want to keep permanent residence.</p><p> </p><p>Dean adjusts some garlands as he walks past the kitchen and then pokes his head into the library.</p><p> </p><p>There's a small tree there – a plastic one because Sam almost had a heart attack with the notion of fir needles getting all over and inside the books – and now he and Jack are busy decorating it. It's overburdened with bright lights, ornaments – ranging from Master Yoda and a beer bottle to a hot dog and a glazed donut – and the type of <span>fake </span>snow one could get from a canister.</p><p> </p><p>“Jack, what's up? You done with the nougat?”</p><p> </p><p>Jack hangs a cactus ornament on a fake branch. “Yes. Cas showed me how to make French nougat too.”</p><p> </p><p>Did he now? “Oh, I didn't know that he could make <em>French</em> nougat.”</p><p> </p><p>Sam shrugs. “He has a knack for baking apparently.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean grabs a Freddy <span>Krueger</span> ornament <span>and winks at Sam</span>. “He has a knack for french kissing too. Let me tell you, when Cas commits – “</p><p> </p><p>“Dean, not in front of the kid.” Sam makes a face, like he's suffering endlessly. “Not in front of <em>me</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Jack turns to Dean, a smile on his face. “It's alright, Dean. I do understand. You are finally together and kissing is an important way of showing affection.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean <span>punches</span> Sam <span>on the</span> shoulder. “You hear that, it's an important way of showing affection. Don't be a prude, Sammy.”</p><p> </p><p>Eileen walks into the library, holding a small box in her arms. “Found more ornaments.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Eileen, those are the number two kind, right?” Dean walks up to her and starts opening the lid but Eileen turns away. “You have three more boxes with ornaments left.”</p><p> </p><p>Sam looks confused. “We have <em>two</em> kinds of ornaments? <em>Why</em>?”</p><p> </p><p>Dean shakes his head in mock disgust. “Actually, it's <em>three </em>kinds of ornaments. We put the cool ornaments on the plastic tree, and we put the classical ornaments on the main tree. Then we have the surrounding ornaments, you know, tinsels, garlands, that cool, flashing Santa pic that will go in the Dean cave. Oh, I also bought that dancing Christmas tree, Sam – “</p><p> </p><p>“Dean, you didn't...”</p><p> </p><p>“It's <em>Christmas.</em>”</p><p> </p><p>Sam sighs. “We can still keep it on a decent level.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean laughs. “Do you even know me? The only thing me and decent have in common is that we both start with a D, and you know, I'm all for the D.” He wiggles his eyebrows.</p><p> </p><p>“Dean!”</p><p> </p><p>Eileen laughs.</p><p> </p><p>Dean shrugs. “What? I've been keeping shit down for years, I'm just releasing some steam.”</p><p> </p><p>“I totally understand,” Eileen signs.</p><p> </p><p>Dean grins and makes a face at Sam. “See, she understands. Alright, you enjoy yourselves and I'ma go see where Cas is hiding. How about lunch around noon? I'll whip something up.”</p><p> </p><p>Sam mutters a goodbye while Jack and Eileen are more enthusiastic with their farewells.</p><p> </p><p>Dean goes straight to their room. It still makes a pulse of happiness go through him when he does that – refers to his and Cas' stuff as <em>theirs</em>.</p><p> </p><p>There's a garland with twinkling lights on the shelf over the bed. A wreath hangs on the inside of the door and Dean notices that the flannel bed set is grey checkered; he has no idea why but it gives off Christmas-vibes.</p><p> </p><p>A small Christmas tree stands in the corner on Cas' side of the bed, and Dean sees Cas' stocking hanging on the opposite wall.</p><p> </p><p>Dean checks for his stocking and realizes that his isn't up yet. Looking closer, he notices that only Cas' side of the bed has the grey flannel set and Dean has no tree in <em>his </em>corner.</p><p> </p><p>Cas is there, kneeling by his side of the bed and spreading out a soft carpet with a snowy pattern on it.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Cas.” Dean lets the words hang in the air but he doesn't get a reply so he continues. “Seems you missed fifty percent of the decoration and a hundred percent of the holiday cheer..”</p><p> </p><p>After a beat of silence, Cas replies. “No, it's all there.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean frowns. Cas sounds upset again. “Cas, is something wrong?”</p><p> </p><p>“No.”</p><p> </p><p>The answer comes way too quickly for comfort. “Alright man, what the fuck did I do? Put raisins in the saffron buns? Did I forget to restock on that coffee you love? Did I delete your entire Netflix list again? Last time was an honest mistake.” Dean snaps his fingers. “Oh, I know, it's Jack, isn't it? What can I say, he has his favorite cereals and when he looks at me like that I have to buy the plus-size, kid is still – “</p><p> </p><p>Cas turns quickly and faces Dean.</p><p> </p><p>Even in his anger, Dean can't help but think that Cas is so damn beautiful. “Do you really think I'm upset over something so trivial?”</p><p> </p><p>Butterflies of unease fly through Dean and settle in his stomach, their wings flapping dread in waves. “I would've liked to say yes, but I guess it's a no. No, Cas, I have no idea why you're upset. That's why I'm asking.”</p><p> </p><p>Cas gets up and anger burns in his eyes but his voice is muted. “You never ask me.”</p><p> </p><p>“What the hell are you talking about? I just did!”</p><p> </p><p>Cas shakes his head. “This is the same thing as last time.” Anger leaves him and Cas' shoulders drop.</p><p> </p><p>Dean recognizes the sadness in his posture and it kills him that he's the cause of it.</p><p> </p><p>Cas continues. “I just wish... after everything, that you could've told me to my face. I thought we were past this.” Cas walks around Dean and heads out in the hallway.</p><p> </p><p>Acrid fear bubbles up in Dean's throat swallowing any rising anger he has. Cas is already some distance away and Dean has to run to catch up to him.</p><p> </p><p>“Cas!” Dean grabs him by the elbow and turns him around. “Where are you going?”</p><p> </p><p>“Away!”</p><p> </p><p>The words feel like a punch in the gut. “What... why?”</p><p> </p><p>Cas looks away, ignoring Dean's question. “This is precisely like the last time I was – “ Cas shakes his head and pulls his elbow away. He faces Dean again. “I thought – I thought it would be different this time because I love you and... you love me.”</p><p> </p><p>Fear is still there, simmering, but Dean has to confess that mostly he's confused as fuck. “Cas. Talk to me.”</p><p> </p><p>“You want me gone. Just like the last time I was human. I wish you could've told me to my face that you wanted me to leave instead of...” Cas starts walking again.</p><p> </p><p>Dean stays frozen in place as his thoughts whirl in his mind. His heart pounds rapidly in his chest and his breathing is heavy like he's been running for miles. His entire being is a sudden storm and he's not sure he can stop it.</p><p> </p><p>All Dean thinks about is that Cas is leaving him – it's fucking Christmas, who leaves on <em>Christmas for fucks sake? – </em>and he wants Cas to stay. Of course, he wants him to stay. Since Cas gave up his grace and became human, Dean has never once said or even contemplated telling Cas to be gone.</p><p> </p><p>Then it hits him. <em>Fucking hell</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Dean runs up to Cas, grabs him, and pushes him against the wall. “Listen, you stubborn son-of-a-bitch. I guess you heard what I said to Sam, is that it?”</p><p> </p><p>Cas stares at him defiantly, but Dean can see the hurt in his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Dean shakes his head but doesn't ease up on Cas; his palm stays firmly pressed on his chest.</p><p> </p><p>“I heard all I need to know.”</p><p> </p><p>“'You heard everything you need to know'. You heard nothing. I can't believe you're <em>more </em>dramatic now as a human than when you were an angel. You don't know shit.” Dean regrets his harsh words the second they're out. “Look, Cas, I need to show you something. Come with me.”</p><p> </p><p>“You said that I had to move out,” Cas bites off.</p><p> </p><p>Dean breathes out and even though he knows that he didn't mean it like that, the notion that Cas took it like Dean wanted him gone still hurts. Even <em>if</em> the asshole didn't know half the story, hell, he didn't know a quarter of the story. “You're lucky that I love you, you dumbass, or I don't know what I'd do right now. We are going for a drive.”</p><p> </p><p>He tries pulling Cas along but he refuses to budge. “You're the dumbass.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean lets out a laugh at the sheer absurdity of the situation but collects himself when he sees Cas' reaction. “Cas, sweetheart. Just come with me, <em>please</em> and I'll explain everything.”</p><p> </p><p>Cas eyes Dean and his suspicious glare softens. “You're saying that we're both a couple of dumbasses?” There's a small, uncertain smile playing on Cas' lips.</p><p> </p><p>“I prefer the word confused. Less dumb. Less ass. So, will you come with me, Cas?”</p><p> </p><p>Cas nods. “I will.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Dean notices the glances that Cas gives him during the car ride and while they do talk, it's about everything but what they need to talk about. When Cas' eyes flit over to Dean for the eleventh time, he finally breaks the silence. “Uh, thanks for coming with me, Cas.” He keeps his voice civil and quells the impulse to add a 'you fool' to the exchange.</p><p> </p><p>Cas just nods. “Of course.”</p><p> </p><p>The sun plays over Cas' face as they drive; it paints him in a soft halo that just accentuates his beauty.</p><p> </p><p>Because Cas is beautiful. His hair that's started to show some gray, the laugh wrinkles around his eyes, his chapped lips, his eyes like the sky – his <em>soul</em>, there isn't a single thing about Cas that Dean doesn't find beautiful. Even his stupid anger.</p><p> </p><p>Finally, they reach the spot. Dean slows down, turns, and drives onto a narrow gravel path. Fresh snow covers the road but Dean knows where it ends and moss and grass begin.</p><p> </p><p>Cas looks around and even though Dean clearly sees that he <em>wants </em>to be suspicious, curiosity gets the best of him. Soon, Cas is looking out the window, staring at the naked trees. He seems content.</p><p> </p><p>Dean pushes his hope down. He still needs to talk to Cas first. Lovable idiot and the love of his life. He reaches for Cas' hand and exhales softly when Cas takes it.</p><p> </p><p>Shutting off Baby, Dean leads Cas to the lake.</p><p> </p><p>Cas curls his fingers around Dean's hand. That touch is an anchor that secures everything good Dean thinks about himself and the world <em>into </em>himself. “So, here it is. What do you think?”</p><p> </p><p>Cas squints. “What do I think about what?”</p><p> </p><p>“This place.” Dean gestures with a hand. He contemplates letting go because his heart rate is already speeding up and he can feel his hand turning clammy.</p><p> </p><p>Cas looks at Dean, tilting his head slightly. Then he looks out over the lake and woods. “Well, I'd need to test the water to properly ascertain how good the water quality is but judging by the trees and what greenery I can see – and I can't see much – it does seem that the lake is healthy. The trees seem sturdy, and I don't see any evidence of infestation.” Cas looks back at Dean, his eyes narrowed. “I don't understand. What does this forest have to do with... what we talked about earlier?”</p><p> </p><p>Dean lets go of Cas' hand and tries not to grin like a fucking idiot. “You were right, I wanted you to leave.”</p><p> </p><p>Cas begins, “I don't understand why that makes you so –“</p><p> </p><p>“ – I wanted you to leave and come here with me.”</p><p> </p><p>Cas stops mid-sentence. He stares at Dean.</p><p> </p><p>Dean knows that Cas is trying to decipher what he means and while it isn't exactly how he planned this to unfold – when does his plans ever fucking work? – Dean decides to just roll with it.</p><p> </p><p>“Granted, there's snow now but I still think it will turn out beautiful. We have months to go before it's finished but I'd say by mid-fall if we do everything by ourselves. Even faster if we want too, but I was thinking this to be a – uh, relaxing project. Maybe a bridge down to the lake.” Dean rubs his neck. “It's not like the beach but I'm sure there will be a patch of sand we can dig our toes in. And over there – we can remove some trees and I know you talked about a greenhouse...”</p><p> </p><p>Dean finally looks at Cas properly. He's still staring at Dean but if Dean didn't know better he'd interpret that gleam in Cas' eyes as something good.</p><p> </p><p>“Dean... are you asking me to move in with you?”</p><p> </p><p>Dean huffs. “I mean, that would be stupid, since we're already living together, Cas. I guess I'm asking you to <em>move out </em>together with me?”</p><p> </p><p>Cas' smile is all the answer Dean needs but Cas pulls him in into a hug.</p><p> </p><p>He feels Cas' breath near his ear as he whispers. “I'm sorry I acted the way I did earlier. I thought you were... that you wanted me to – “</p><p> </p><p>Exhaling, Dean lets go of Cas, only to look at him in earnest. He strokes Cas' cheek with a tentative finger and shakes his head. “I was stupid for not telling you, I wanted it to be a surprise but Cas” – Dean kisses him with passion and revels in the taste that is all Cas – “I'd never leave you. <em>Never. </em>Not after everything we've been through, not after I've dreamed of living this life with you for fucking years.”</p><p> </p><p>Cas swallows. “I'm sorry, Dean, I do understand that now. It's still difficult to navigate all of these human emotions. I do remember the last time I was human and when I overheard you say to Sam that you wanted me to leave, all those old fears came back. Because I was human last time too and – “ Cas stops himself. “It's hard being human, I feel everything so much <em>more</em>. I might have... overreacted.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean can finally breathe again. “'Overreacted'. Yeah, you can fucking say that. Was that why I didn't get any ornaments?” Dean grins when he sees Cas smile again.</p><p> </p><p>“You noticed that?”</p><p> </p><p>Dean barks out a laugh. “It was not very subtle.”</p><p> </p><p>A smile plays on Cas' lips and he shrugs nonchalantly. “Good, you're not always good with subtle.”</p><p> </p><p>“Shut up, Cas.”</p><p> </p><p>“Make me.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean grins, bites Cas' lip playfully before kissing him softly. Soon, the kiss transforms into a passionate thing that coaxes forth Dean's inner heat. Even the chill of winter does nothing to dull Dean's fire. Cas' hand wounds up in his hair where Cas pulls gently. It sends shivers of pleasure down Dean's spine.</p><p> </p><p>“I don't think this is a good idea, Cas.”</p><p> </p><p>“What isn't?”</p><p> </p><p>Cas kisses Dean down the side of his neck and Dean closes his eyes at the sheer pleasure of it. He will never tire of the visceral response Cas brings out in him. An eternity ago, in another lifetime they must have existed together, nothing else can explain the feeling of <em>completion</em> Dean has.</p><p> </p><p>“Us making out like horny teenagers in the snow?” As if mother nature wants to emphasize her point, a light snowfall begins to fall down from the sky. It leaves powdery dust on their shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>To Dean's great sadness, Cas stops kissing him and decides to be reasonable all of a sudden. “You're right.”</p><p> </p><p>“Can't I be wrong this time?”</p><p> </p><p>Looking seriously at Dean, Cas deadpans. “Aren't you wrong all the time?”</p><p> </p><p>“Shut up. We need to stop watching those movies. They're a bad influence on you.”</p><p> </p><p>Cas rolls his eyes. “Because I'm sure that's the reason and not being around Winchesters all the time.” A tiny shiver racks his body.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, you're cold! Let's head back. There are some human experiences I definitely don't want you to have, like pneumonia.” Cas takes his hand and they walk back to Baby.</p><p> </p><p>As they sit down in the Impala, Dean plays with the keys. “Cas... I'm happy you know. Sure, I've been through fucking Hell, figuratively and literally. And we've fought everything from vampires to ghosts to Scooby-Do monsters, saved the world ten times over. It's been a ride but it was all worth it. The world is alright. Chuck is gone, Amara is doing her thing and we are finally fucking free.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean exhales as he continues. “I've been a killer and a murderer –“</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Dean – “</em></p><p> </p><p>Dean raises his hand and Cas stops. “I've been a killer and a murderer, that's what dad told me, what the angels and monsters told me, that's what <em>I</em> told <em>myself </em>for so long. But now I know that I'm not that. I'm a hunter – fucking badass at it if I say so myself – I'm a brother, I'm a father.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean grins. “I'm a lover. Yes, people have died because of me – hush, don't interrupt me – but people have also <em>lived </em>because of me. Some think I'm a hero. A superhero.”</p><p> </p><p>Cas rolls his eyes at him. “I wouldn't go that far. “</p><p> </p><p>Dean laughs. He could kiss Cas' stupid, beautiful face. “Above all, I'm just me, and I'm <em>good </em>with who I am. I'm Dean and I'm all yours. Of all the things I could've been, I'm so glad to be this, Cas.”</p><p> </p><p>“Being my boyfriend suits you.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean barks out another laugh. He will never tire of Cas being this carefree, this happy. “So, uh, about that cottage. Is it a go? You and me Lego-ing the crap out of it?”</p><p> </p><p>Cas nods and kisses Dean softly. “It's a yes,” he whispers against Dean's lips.</p><p> </p><p>There it is again, that warmth that just fills Dean up so much that he just has to smile. He will never tire of that feeling. “Merry Christmas, Cas. I love you so damn much. ”</p><p> </p><p>Cas grins. “Merry Christmas, Dean. I love you too.”</p><p> </p><p>Grabbing Cas' belt, Dean pulls Cas towards himself. “How about you show me how much you love me?”</p><p> </p><p>Even before Dean thinks of an answer, Cas grinds down against Dean's groin. “What about lunch?”</p><p> </p><p>Dean exhales sharply. “Uh, one second, I'm on it.” He grabs his phone as Cas starts kissing the side of his neck. The kiss is hard and unyielding, one that'll leave a mark tomorrow. Dean tries typing first but it's impossible with how Cas caresses him all over.</p><p> </p><p>“Use your words, Dean,” Cas says, voice tinged with amusement.</p><p> </p><p>“Seriously?”</p><p> </p><p>“Mm.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean sighs but relents. After what feels like forever, Sam finally picks up. “Hey, Sammy, it's Dean.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>- Hi, Dean. What's up?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Cas continues to lave kisses on Dean but a flick of his tongue near Dean's ear has him yelping at the same time as a flash of lust goes through him. Holy fuck. “Uh, we'll be a tad late but we'll order pizza for everyone instead.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>- Pizza. Why are you gonna be late, you still have time to make – “</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“I'm out of minutes.” Cas pulls down his zipper and opens up the front of his jeans. Throwing his head back, Dean closes his eyes and moans softly, moving his hips.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>- Dean, you don't have minutes.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Dean bites his tongue as Cas shoves his hand down inside Dean's boxers, smiling mischievously. He squeezes Dean's already hard cock. Fuck, it feels so good. “I don't? I' – alright. Just do something.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>- </em>
  <em>Do something?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Cas is the one that does something. He strokes Dean's cock down as far as he can reach. Then back up again, squeezing just right. He smears precome all over Dean's head, almost casually rubbing a thumb over it.</p><p> </p><p>Dean flashes his eyes open. Cas' eyes fucking shine. He's enjoying himself way too much and he's enjoying torturing Dean.</p><p> </p><p>And his annoying brother is still not getting the message. “I'm trying to <em>do</em> <em>Cas </em>right now, alright?”</p><p> </p><p><em>- </em><em>No, too much info! What the hell, dude?<br/>
<br/>
</em>Finally, Sam gets the memo and blessed silence is all that reaches Dean's ear. With a sigh, he drops the phone somewhere on the floor, now being able to focus solely on Cas.<br/>
<br/>
Outside, the soft whispers of the wind come through the trees as a light snowfall starts. The cold poses no threat to Dean though, he thinks, as he claims Cas' mouth in a kiss.</p><p> </p><p>Cas will keep him warm.</p><p>  </p>
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